


Fire in his Dreams

by jackstanifold



Series: Of Family and Fear au [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arson, Fire, Gore, M/M, Rating May Change, Sapnap is a pyromaniac, Sapnap-centric (Video Blogging RPF), dream goes insane lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28110531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackstanifold/pseuds/jackstanifold
Summary: Sapnap had always had his friends.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy
Series: Of Family and Fear au [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052519
Comments: 25
Kudos: 146





	Fire in his Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Why the hell don't people talk about Sapnap.

The boy wasn’t really sure where he was. It was summer, he thought, if the killer hot sun was anything to go off of. He hissed at it, but shockingly enough, it didn’t dim. He sighed. He started moving across the field. The dry grass rustled under his feet. Snap, snap, sap, nap, san, spat, nat. span, sap, nap. 

He was going insane. 

Angrily, he kicked at the grass. It didn’t react. He let out an enraged howl and started ripping at it with his hands. It cut open his palm, but he barely noticed. Finally, he tired himself out, plopping down on the ground. That’s when he started to notice things for the first time.

He was 13 or fourteen, and a bit short for his age. He had light brown hair. It was just a little too long, and hung in his eyes in the most annoying way possible. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater, which definitely didn’t help with the heat. He was a little chubby, too, which annoyed him too. A lot of things annoyed him. With a sigh, he fell backward to lay on the ground. The sun was still there, of course, and it still hurt to look at, so he closed his eyes.

Fuck. 

Suddenly, he sat up, his eyes flying open. Was that… footsteps? Across the field? He stood with a huff, his hand moving to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked toward the source of the noise. There was someone walking along the treeline.

“Hey!” He shouted. “Hey, you!”

The person turned. It was a boy, a couple years older than him, dressed in a baggy green hoodie. As he jogged up to him, it occurred to him to be suspicious. He stopped about thirty feet away to glare at him.

“What’s your name?” He asked, though he wasn’t really sure why. He couldn’t remember his own name, much less anyone else’s. This could be his long twin brother for all he knew.

The guy shrugged. “Not sure. I was going to walk around until I found someone-”

He frowned. “What do you mean you’re not sure what your name is…”

The guy shrugged again, his face utterly emotionless. “I woke up, like, an hour ago, man. Don’t remember anything,” he paused, tilting his head. “What’s your name?”

He said it like a challenge. The smaller boy knew in that moment that he couldn’t admit he didn’t know his name. At that moment, the wind brushed through the dry grass, making it rustle and crackle, and he said the first thing that came to mind.

“Sapnap.”

There was a pause, and the other boy let out an incredulous laugh. “What?!”

“Did I fucking stutter? Stupid bitch?”

The boy’s laugh was more genuine this time, coming out of his mouth as a wheeze, and he fell back a couple steps, shaking his head. He was probably around 16 years old; tall, and lanky, with short wavy blond hair and green eyes. His nose had a little spattering of freckles on it, and there was a tiny gap in his teeth. Sapnap decided he hated him.

After a good five seconds of wheezing and choking noises (was this guy ok?), the other boy sighed, wiping a pretend tear from his cheek. “Holy shit… Alright then, Sapnap. Wanna come with me? We can work together and figure out where we are.”

Sapnap snorted. “Yeah, no. I’d rather stay on my own.”

The other boy nodded. “Alright. Suit yourself. See you around, Snapmap.”

Sapnap flipped him off, watching him turn to leave. Suddenly, the wind seemed so much more sinister, and it occurred to him how alone he was. The older boy walked quickly, his long legs taking farther with each stride, and suddenly, Sapnap decided it might not be so bad to have a companion.

“Wait-” His voice cracked a bit when the boy spun to look at him. “Wait, I… I guess I can go with you for a bit, to keep you from, like, dying.” 

The boy grinned, then started walking again, leaving Sapnap to start jogging after him.

They weren't walking for long before the boy grabbed Sapnap’s arm and pointed out something in the distance. A city, but not like the ones he was used to. It had high walls and a castle in the middle, instead of… he couldn't remember what else a city could look like.

The people there were friendly, explaining to the boys how things worked around the SMP (what a dumb name for a city, Sapnap thought), and showing them where they could get an apartment for cheap. 

Then one of them mentioned a king, and the other boy's head snapped to him. "A king? How does one become king?" 

The man laughed at the boy, shaking his head. "A duel to the death, my little friend."

Sapnap stared at him. "To the death?! What the fuck?!" 

The man explained that everyone had three deaths until permadeath, unless they gave their lives to someone else. Sapnap tried to pay attention, it sounded important, but his friend had moved to the window to stare at the castle. The look on his face was odd, his eyes narrowing, a small grin on his lips.

"...how does one… challenge the king to a fight?" He asked, causing Sapnap to frown at him in confusion.

The man laughed again, this time, uncomfortably. "Oh. Uh. You just… march in and announce your intentions. You'll be given a weapon of your choice and armor, and then you can choose whether you want spectators or not… and then… you fight."

The boy grinned. "Awesome. Come on Spampam, I'm going to become a king." And he was gone.

By the time Sapnap reached the castle, his friend was already struggling to strap on his armor. Sapnap stared at him in shock. His nose was wrinkled as he failed at putting on the chest plate, only managing to get his sleeve caught on the strap. He laughed, and pulled it off, over his head, and grabbed a random sword from the rack.

There he stood, 5'11", 130lbs tops, unarmored and inexperienced, facing the 6'8", 200lbs, heavily armored king who had literally gotten and kept this spot by killing anyone who dared challenge him. The best warrior in the entire kingdom, versus a teenage boy who was still smiling a bit and bouncing on his toes.

Sapnap could hardly look as the bell rang to signal the beginning of the fight.

But he was glad he did. 

The king moved fast, darting forward, raising his sword to strike. The boy didn't react, at first, and it seemed like the fight was already over. Then, he moved. His body twisted out of the way, crouching low to the ground. 

The king stumbled a bit from overbalance, before turning to swing again, but the boy had already gotten his balance back, and swung his leg up, impossibly high. It caught the monarch right in the jaw, and he fell back. The boy walked to his side, grabbing his hair with one hand, and raising the sword with other.

The king's head slid across the floor, leaving a disgusting red smear on the marble.

Sapnap stared at his friend as the older boy swiped a hand across his face, wiping the blood off his cheek. The room was completely quiet, except for… humming? The boy was humming? He just killed a man, but the grin on his face and the bounce in his step didn't falter as he turned in a circle to address the spectators.

"I win, right?"

The man's body must've disappeared at some point, leaving him to respawn in bed with a gasp and a sore neck, but no one noticed. All eyes were on the new king.

He never chose a name. He just went by "the King", for a while, but then, word got to his palace of a nickname the people had given him. 

"Dream… It's got a nice ring to it, huh, Snaps?" He grinned at the smaller boy, who shrugged. 

They'd been living in the palace for a couple weeks now, and it was starting to show. Dream had put on some muscle, from training, and his new crown sat jauntily among his golden curls. Sapnap's hair was still long, but he'd tied it back with a strip of cloth he'd ripped off of one of Dream's royal gowns. 

He wasn't sure why he was so obsessed with pissing the king off. Maybe hearing others whisper about how the king was crazy, how he had no remorse over killing the previous ruler made him wonder. Would Dream kill him, if he rubbed him the wrong way? Was he wrong about this guy?

The answer, so far, appeared to be no. Dream laughed off everything he did, joking about it, calling him dumb nicknames and ruffling his hair. Sapnap couldn't find it in himself to fear this boy, with his dumb laugh and unusually twitchy fingers.

People would challenge him, sometimes. Most chose to keep the fights private, with only them, the king, and his advisors (Sapnap was his only advisor, his only friend). Some got cocky, making it public, but they always had the same outcome. Dream would win, every time. He'd kill them, wipe the blood off his face, and grin up at Sapnap. He'd wink sometimes, like there was an unspoken joke in the air between them. Sapnap didn't know what the joke was, but he'd smile back. It was nice having a friend.

When they'd been living there for a year or so, a new man came to town. Well, not a man, not quite, but he was older than the two of them. He wandered around town for a while, apparently, before coming to the palace. All Sapnap knew is that as soon as he walked in, Dream sat up a little straighter in his throne.

The man was tiny, shorter than Sapnap, and his form was dainty; so when he challenged Dream to a fight, Sapnap laughed. Dream brushed him off, but smiled at the man with an odd smile. "Of course. I accept your challenge."

The man was prepared. He knew what he was doing as he strapped on his armor, testing the swords to find one with the right balance. He finally settled on a diamond one- a wise choice- and faced the king. Dream wore no armour. He swung his trusty axe by his side as he looked at the man. And then they were moving.

It was public, and a good dozen people had arrived, clearly curious about this strange man, wondering if he could take down the king.

He couldn't.

Dream killed him within seconds, chopping off his head, just like all the others, and turning to Sapnap. He didn't smile though, walking past him to the throne, eyebrows creased a bit in concern.

He summoned the man back to the palace, and when he arrived, Dream did something he'd never done before. He told Sapnap to get out. The younger boy tried to argue, saying something about being a royal advisor, but Dream glared at him, green eyes turning dark, and he felt his heart sink. The third man knelt before the throne, giving Sapnap a confused look as he left. Sapnap snarled at him, and slammed the door behind him.

Sapnap dreamed of fires that night, for the first time. 

The new guy, George, became an advisor too. Whatever he and Dream had talked about in there had apparently been important, important enough to make Dream trust him as much as Sapnap. 

Sapnap tried not to be offended. No, that's a lie. He really didn't even try masking his jealousy as the short man stole his best friend as he watched them go hunting together for the third time this week, without inviting him.

The worst part is, he didn't even hate George. The man was clumsy, and a bit of a dork, but he was funny, and sweet, and if Sapnap looked past the fact that he had practically replaced him, he could imagine them becoming friends.

Finally, one day, he cornered George in the corridor and started berating him with questions. What do him and Dream talk about? Why do they go hunting so often? Why did Dream chose to trust him without knowing him? What made him trust him more than he trusted Sapnap?

George was nervous, obviously, his eyes flitting around as he stammered, but he finally gave the long awaited answers. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?!" Sapnap cried, his hands flailing in the air.

"I mean, I don't know!" George seemed almost as upset as him now, eyebrows drawn in concern. "He called me to the castle the first day to ask me my name, and if I remembered anything before I woke up. I didn't, but… I don't know! We go hunting a lot, just to chat, but I don't know why, and he doesn't tell me anything about anything! I'm just as confused as you are!"

Sapnap stepped back to look at him. The dumb goggles he always wore that helped him see color hung around his neck, and his mismatched eyes were gazing at the younger boy with unfaltering sincerity. 

"Ok. Fine, I believe you. We aren't friends, though." 

George nodded. "I can live with that."

It was a lie. They were friends after that. It was obvious from the way Sapnap teased George, and the way the man smiled at him when did. Dream noticed. He looked relieved, but he didn't say anything.

Then, one day, they invited Sapnap to go hunting with them, and he beamed. It was a cold day in mid winter, and Sapnap complained the whole time. They didn't catch anything- deciding to let the few animals they came across go- but when they stumbled back home to the nice, warm castle, George leaning on Sapnap's shoulder, and Dream yawning a bit, they were all laughing. 

They started hanging out more, and going to town. People still trembled in fear of the king, but now they would smile at George, or offer tea to Sapnap. Dream was feared, but his friends were not. He didn't seem to notice, dragging them through town, and excitedly talking about everything he saw. 

One day, they decided to go to a bakery for cake. The second Dream waltzed through the door, his eyes went wide and he froze. 

Sapnap knew Dream liked guys. It was something they'd talked about before, bringing it up in jokes and taunts. However, as his friend stared wide eyed at the boy behind the counter, Sapnap decided he didn't just like boys. He was boy crazy.

The boy's name was Fundy, and he was a little weird. He was 15, the same as Sapnap, but he was so much shorter, almost as short as George. He and Dream started going out, meaning Sapnap and George were alone a lot more, but this time, Sapnap didn't mind. Dream still hung out with him, and when he talked about Fundy, it was obvious that he was over the moon for the guy. He even offered to let him be an advisor, but Fundy declined, saying he had to help his friend with the bakery.

Life was perfect for a while, until the man in the boar's head mask arrived.

He apparently rode through town, not stopping to speak to anyone, going straight to the castle. He strode in, his long fur cloak sweeping against the floor, his white blond hair billowing down his back. He stopped in the middle of the floor, gazing at the king with a precision that cut Sapnap's heart to a quick.

"I'd like to challenge the king to a duel." 

It was to be a private battle, the only spectators being Sapnap and George. They rolled their eyes at each other, playfully. They knew how this would go.

As always, Dream didn't put on any armor, his only weapon being his axe. The other man chose a sword, taking off his mask and cloak, and putting on a single gauntlet. There was a pause, a moment of silence, then Sapnap rang the bell, and the fight began.

It was abnormal from the get go. Normally, the challengers make the first move, charging forward to try and get the upper hand with the element of surprise. This one did no such thing. He took a few steps to the side, as did Dream, and then they were circling the throne room in a dance of death. Sapnap noticed that Dream was relaxed still, a good sign, it meant he didn't think this guy was a threat. 

Then Dream darted forward, his boots finding traction on the smooth marble as he sped towards the man.

The man dodged the first attack nicely, and Sapnap was worried.

They spun for a while, faster and faster, blocks, parries, jabs, and the occasional punch or kick, moving too quickly for Sapnap to follow. He looked at George, who seemed just as lost as he was.

Dream managed to shove the guy, and swung at his face. It connected, leaving the man screaming and clutching at his left eye. Sapnap sat back. It wouldn't be long now.

At the sight of blood, the stranger seemed to still a bit. As Dream approached to deal the final blow, the man looked up. Then he was moving. He snatched up his sword and charged Dream.

Dream's mouth opened a bit in surprise, and the man didn't hesitate, his sword biting into the king's lips and tearing the flesh. Sapnap heard George cry out as Dream slipped on blood, though whether it was his or the other's, no one knew.

In an instant, the stranger was on him, a sword pressed to his throat, hard enough to cut, glaring at him with his remaining eye, which burned a bright amber.

Then he stood, gazing down at the boy on the ground. "Good fight." And then he was gone, taking his mask and cape with him.

Sapnap was frozen, his eyes on the door the man had just left through, and for a moment, no one spoke. Then Dream let out a choked noise, and both advisors came rushing down the steps from the throne to check on him.

He was going to have a scar. Two of them, actually, going from the corners of his mouth all the way back to his ears. The skin had been sliced through, only knitting itself back together with a lot of potions and god apples. He begged them to kill him, let him respawn without any scars, but George refused to even consider the idea, saying they’d figure it out, and things’ll work out.

Sapnap dreamt of fire again. Burning, ripping, screaming through the corridors, burning the castle to ash.

When people asked about the fight, Sapnap replied that Dream won. George would add that it was close, and the other man was a good fighter, but in the end, he was no match for the king.

Dream started drawing back. He would pick fights with servants, ignoring George and Sapnap, and stopped going out on dates with Fundy. They didn't know what to do. They didn't know what they could do. 

Fundy had a solution, of sorts. Going hunting might remind him of who was deep down. It was worth a shot, at least. 

The first time they saw him in months, he was wearing a mask. A simple, plain, white porcelain mask. It covered his whole face, other than his eyes, which stared at them with a certain rage. Controlled, focused. He wasn’t mad at them, but it still hurt.

George pitched the idea, with only a little begging. He was only 18. He should be out, having fun. They missed him. Fundy missed him. He was missing some of the best weather they’d had in a while. 

He finally agreed, shaking his head a bit. They left at noon, traveling into the forest by the palace, in complete silence.

The quiet lasted for a long time, the three men walking through the trees, their footsteps the only audio distraction from their rushing thoughts. Finally, Sapnap decided he was done, and started talking.

It was sudden, and George jumped a bit, but he didn’t stop. He rambled about anything, everything, his thoughts, his ideas, questions he had about life, jokes, anything. George chimed in at some point, and the two of them had almost forgotten Dream was there until Sapnap was telling a story about how he and Dream broke into their own kitchen to scare the cook, and the king laughed a bit. “I remember that.”

Sapnap and George grinned at each other excitedly and started angling the conversation. An olive branch extended. And he took it. 

Things went back to normal. Almost. Dream was more reserved, spending a lot more time staring off into space, and he wore that damned mask everywhere. He paid more attention to the people, sending scouts into the city to find out what the people thought of him. When he heard of any complaints, he would scowl, his eyes burning into the floor. He started planting depots of TNT under the city, as extra precautions, and had guards posted at every gate to the palace. His friends noticed, and tried to help with his paranoia. They went out hunting weekly, and they’d come back relaxed and calmer, hearts light from a day of just hanging out. Things weren’t remotely normal, but that was ok. They could figure it out.

Then Sapnap started doing things on his own. His dreams of fire had been getting clearer, until he could feel the heat on his skin when he woke up, and could smell the smoke in the air. So he had to release it. The first fire was small. He lit a piece of parchment in the kitchen, setting it in a bowl and watching it shrivel up. It was beautiful, the way the light ghosted over the paper, the way it turned black and fell apart. 

It wasn’t like he’d never seen fire before, but he had never seen it like this, like it was magic. When George asked him where he went at night, he shrugged, saying he had a side project. He didn’t want to admit he’d been sneaking off every night to build little bonfires in the woods, just to stare at them.

Dream knew. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but something about the way the man looked at him said loud and clear that he knew.

Then that Tommy kid started causing problems, and they had a new concern. Sapnap was at fault, in part, he knew that. He’d set a fire too close to a certain tree, and watching it go up in flames made him grin. Ponk had run out of his home, letting out a cry at the sight of his oh so precious lemon tree turn black and ashy, but Sapnap couldn’t find it in himself to care. Ponk and Alyssa ran around him, rushing from the river with buckets of water to throw on the tree. Ponk turned to him, and asked one question. 

“What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing.”

They believed him. They believed him when he said he saw the arsonist run into the woods, and that he recognized them, the potion maker's troublesome little brother. He wasn’t sure why he chose to throw Tommy under the bus. 

They cornered Tommy. Three against one. Alyssa was small, but she was mad. Ponk was more rational, but he was bigger. And Sapnap was a wall. At 6’0”, he knew he was intimidating, and the King’s right hand man. The kid wasn’t scared, though. He laughed at their accusations. His little friend looked more nervous, tugging his sleeve and hiding behind him.

They ended up bringing him in, charging for robbery and murder, although no one was actually hurt. Ponk apparently felt bad enough to drop the charges, much to Sapnap’s annoyance. The guy was too soft.

The revolution started, and Sapnap knew it was his fault. Dream suspected, he knew, and George was oblivious as ever. 

Dream got more and more paranoid. He wouldn’t tell them anything, and hired a private mercenary, Ponk’s brother, a lanky man named Punz. 

Punz wasn’t one of them. Sapnap made sure he knew that, the threat clear in his voice. Punz just nodded. “I know. You guys are the elites, right? Better than the rest of us, by far.”

Sapnap couldn’t think of anything to say to that, and watched him vanish down the hall. Is that what people thought? That Sapnap and George thought they were better?

Things got worse, the rebellion spreading in popularity, and then Dream just threw away his crown. It was a terrible decision, but the deal was made, and the strange, tall man with the deep voice who stood in the throne room scared Sapnap. “This’ll work quite nicely,” King Eret smiled.

Dream stopped asking his advisors for advice. He finally came to them, right before the duel, to tell them that if things went downhill, he wanted them to leave, get out immediately, take their stuff and meet him in the woods. He didn’t lose, of course.

They won the war with one arrow, and everything seemed like it was better. Then, Dream walked maskless into their new, tiny apartment, holding up the discs, and looked them in the eyes as he announced L’Manburg’s independence.

Sapnap moved out. He was 19 now, and wasn’t technically working for Dream anymore, he had no reason to stay. He moved in with a man named Karl. Karl was nice, and funny, and didn’t mind him setting fires in the sink.

He stopped talking to George, after a while, watching him run for vice president of the country they had fought, watching him fail the debate against a literal child, watched him sleep through election day. He left before the speech. He couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He stayed in the background for a long time. George moved in with the new president, Dream vanished off the face of the earth, becoming more of an urban legend than anything. Sapnap was an afterthought. It was the disgraced ex-king, Dream; and the President’s little pet, George; and- oh yeah, Sapnap, didn’t you know them?

He didn’t care. 

That’s a lie. He really did care. It tore him up realising that he’d never been a big deal, not beside Dream. He didn’t do anything about it though, and when Karl asked him if he was ok, he’d shrug, telling him he was fine, and move on.

At the final battle, he fought with Manburg, not because he thought they were right, but because he’d hope that Dream would look at him the same way he had before. That he’d wink at him, and throw an arm over his shoulder, call him Spatnat, and things would be ok.

He didn’t. He had eyes for no one but Schlatt, and when the man failed, he turned to Wilbur, then Techno. Dream no longer cared for him. He no longer cared for anyone, but himself. 

Sapnap gave up on his old friend. He joined Karl and Quackity’s little nation when they asked him, and made up with George, and apologized to Tommy, and ignored Punz and Ponk, and watched Technoblade, the man who had ruined his life, who had turned his best friend into a monster, leave.

He was tired. He was tired of being the backup. He was tired of watching from the sidelines. He was tired of being ignored. He was tired.

So he slept. And fires raged in his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments what the fuck this took me four days to write.


End file.
